My ships' leaving on a three-year tourThe next tide will take us from shoreWindlaced, gather in sail and sprayOn a search for the mighty sperm whale

Fly your willow branchesWrap your body round my soulLay down your reeds and drums on my soft sheetsThere are years behind us reachingTo the place where hearts are beatingAnd I know you're the last true love I'll ever meet

Starbuck's sharpening his harpoonThe black man's playing his tuneAn old salt's sleeping his watch awayHe'll be drunk again before noon

Three years sailing on bended kneeWe found no whales in the seaDon't cry, little Robin-Marie'Cause we'll be in sight of land soon